


First Date

by frerarcl



Series: Flowers and Ink [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance, Pencey Prep
Genre: Fluff, M/M, honestly that's all it is, really poor texting grammar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:21:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9137824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frerarcl/pseuds/frerarcl
Summary: In which Gerard finally asks Frank out but kind of fucks it up.!! A sequel to Flowers and Ink, way too late !!





	

**Author's Note:**

> sorry it took 84 years for me to publish this, but i'm a busy barry b benson  
> P.S. i was gonna make frank's name frank [sparkle heart emoji] but apparently ao3 doesnt accept emojis in stories or something so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Eventually, Gerard knew, he'd have to suck it up and ask Frank Heart Emoji on a date (he still hadn't learned Frank's last name, and he had since removed the emoji, but he digresses). It wasn't that Frank was shy, it was just that Gerard maybe never responded in a flirty manner to Frank's texts. He wanted to say something, anything, but he was so nervous that he just couldn't. At this point, though, it was getting ridiculous. Frank had even started using the goddamn winking emoji in things that were clearly meant to be 'flirtatious,' like 'too bad we can't see each other right now ;)', to which Gerard's response was usually something along the lines of 'yeah i really wanna marathon ahs freakshow on netflix and i think youd like it.' Not exactly textbook sexy. He was on the road, he thought, to convincing Frank that they should just draw the lines at being unlikely friends. Gerard was NOT on board for that, but if he didn't change his ways, that was where he'd bought a ticket to.

It was two months after they'd began talking that Gerard built up the courage to ask Frank on a fucking date.

ben and gerrys (5:23 p.m.) hey frank what r u doing tonight  
frank SINatra (5:24 p.m.) absolutely nothing. why?  
ben and gerrys (5:24 p.m.) well i was thinking…  
frank SINatra (5:25 p.m.) g no thats dangeros  
frank SINatra (5:25 p.m.) dangerous* fuck i just ruined a really sick burn  
ben and gerrys (5:26 p.m.) shut up i wanna ask u smth  
frank SINatra (5:26 p.m.) what?  
ben and gerrys (5:27 p.m.) so that slam poetry teahouse or whatever  
Ben and gerrys (5:27 p.m.) i think we should go there  
Ben and gerrys (5:27 p.m.) like together  
Ben and gerrys (5:28 p.m.) like on a date  
frank SINatra (5:29 p.m.) when?  
Ben and gerrys (5:29 p.m.) tonight i guess. what time do they close?  
frank SINatra (5:30 p.m.) reeeeaaaally late. like 3 am i think  
Ben and gerrys (5:30 p.m.) do they have food  
frank SINatra (5:31 p.m.) like food food or standard cafe food  
Ben and gerrys (5:31 p.m.) like food food this is a vital part of the datr  
Ben and gerrys (5:31 p.m.) date  
frank SINatra (5:32 p.m.) lucky you. they have both  
Ben and gerrys (5:33 p.m.) sooooo should i pick u up or?  
frank SINatra (5:34 p.m.) my car got towed, so i would enjoy that  
Ben and gerrys (5:34 p.m.) oh no :'( im sorry  
frank SINatra (5:35 p.m.) it’s fine. when are you coming over?  
Ben and gerrys (5:36 p.m.) like eightish u live on belmont right  
frank SINatra (5:37 p.m.) yeah! i’m 3312a  
Ben and gerrys (5:38 p.m.) awesome!! c u then

Gerard could not breathe. He had a date. With Frank. It had been world-changing enough when Frank had revealed that little Belmont trivia, because Belmont was, like, less than a mile away, but this place was (most likely) too far to walk. It didn't really matter how far away the tea house was. He would find out, and Frank Heart Emoji would let him do so. Fuck, he really needed to learn that boy's last name. He speed-walked towards his bedroom to get changed, which almost didn't end in disaster - until he tripped over a boot he'd left stranded in the hallway and smacked his head into the floor with a dull thwop. Ow. He had carpet, so there was some cushion there, but fuck if it felt like it. Ugh, he could already feel it swelling! I do NOT have enough concealer for this, Gerard whined internally. He knew it was probably turning some disgusting shade of purple as he thought. He realized he hadn't yet picked himself up, stood on wobbling feet, and carefully walked into the bedroom. His normal dark green shirt/red apron/khaki/canvas hi-tops combo wouldn't work for a date, he didn't think.  

 

The outfit he picked seemed a little flirty, a little punk, and a little librarian (at least in his mind), and he was proud of it. Raggedy Iron Maiden shirt he can still fit into despite the holes and the fact he got it his freshman year of high school? Check. Faded, lightly distressed jeans with legs just too wide to be skinny, but that make that ass look like a goddamn cheese platter? Check. Forest green cardigan and the boots that caused his fall? Checkity check. Massive fucking knot on his forehead? An unfortunate check. The swelling had continued to grow, and if he didn't ice it for a while, it was going to hurt like a bitch. He set an alarm on his phone for 7:45, just in case he fell asleep trying to keep the thing on his head from looking like an alien fetus. He smudged on a thin line of precautionary eyeliner, got a bag of peas from the freezer, and sat down on the couch.

The bloodcurdling scream from the other side of the room was what jolted Gerard out of unconsciousness and made him fall off the couch, soggy peas in tow. He must have fallen asleep with some B-list zombie flick on. It seemed a bit dark outside, but he could never tell. He checked his phone and OH SHIT. EIGHT THIRTY. EIGHT. FUCKING. THIRTY. Gerard kicked his ass into high gear, scrambling off the couch, still looking at the illuminated screen. He had four unread texts.

frank SINatra (7:58 p.m.) hey g, i'm outside when you get here :)  
frank SINatra (8:10 p.m.) hey, i don't wanna seem weird or anything, but you said around eight? nvm i'm finw  
frank SINatra (8:11 p.m.) fine* lol  
frank SINatra (8:23 p.m.) hey it's kinda cold, i'm gonna wait inside. text me back when you get these ok 

Gerard quickly tapped out a horribly misspelled 'sry ur gonna luv thsi story one mib' and almost sprinted to his car. He drove down to Belmont faster than he ever had previously, eyes flicking over addresses and desperately searching for 3312A. It was, of course, at the end of the street, an average-looking duplex with a pink skeleton decal stuck to the window, which was lit from the other side. A blind shifted behind it, and a minute or so later, a familiar skunky fauxhawk came outside, with the owner's face looking at the ground (though whether it was to avoid eye contact or stepping in a dog's unmentionables, Gerard was unsure). Gerard slammed the car into park and jumped out, half-jogging across the street to assure his date that he wasn’t a complete dick.

“Oh my god, Frank, I am so sorry. I smacked my head getting ready and tried to ice it but I think I fell asleep because there was a scream and four missed texts -” Gerard started, only realizing halfway through that he was rambling (but being too far into his explanation to stop). Frank laughed in a kind of breathy, light way that made Gerard’s heart melt and maybe made his dick a little bit hard, but that wasn’t important.

“It’s fine, Gerard. I’m just still kinda cold? My heater went out and all my blankets are too scratchy to really enjoy,” he shrugged with a slight shiver.

“Wait, then what do you sleep with? Like, just the sheets?” Gerard asked. The matriarchs of his family had given him countless plush blankets and bedspreads when he had gotten his own apartment, so anyone not having those freaked him out to no end.

“Yeah, usually. When it’s cold out, I wear sweats and don’t do sheets, and when it’s hot out, I just go for the sheets and maybe boxers, if I’m not in that period of ‘I’m a useless vegetable’ where you just wear the same underwear and nothing else for a week but never leave the house,” Frank shrugs. As an afterthought, he threw in, “That last part was probably kind of gross. Sorry.”

“Nah, I get it. I do the same damn thing every summer as a vacation. Why go to Copacabana when I can stay in my house watching shitty movies on Netflix naked?” Gerard laughs.

“I am so happy you said that,” Frank breathes back. “Also… to be honest, as much as I wanted to go to slam night, I'm way too fucking cold to want to go now.”

“Seriously? Fuck, man, I’m sorry,” Gerard frowns, panicking a little (or a lot) on the inside.  _ I mean, really, Gerard? Fucking really? Napping ass little twink, _ he thinks, turning red in spite of the cold.

“It’s okay, really, I just… wanna get out of the cold. I love Jersey but the weather makes me want death,” says Frank, and Gerard can’t believe he’s about to ask this because it’s such a shitty first date plan, but fuck it,

“I still have those shitty movies. My heater works, too, and I have snacks,” Gerard suggests like an asshole. In an attempt to redeem himself, he adds, “I know it’s not ideal for a date situation, but it’s better than hypothermia.” Frank pauses for a moment, and FUCK, he looks like he’s thinking really hard and fuckfuckfuckfu

“That actually sounds kind of awesome. Let’s do it,” he smiles, and Gerard cannot handle that little grin of his because it’s really cute and oh fuck he’s walking to the car shit  _ shit _ \-- he calms himself down and shakily lowers himself back into the driver’s seat. 

On the way back home, he drives a little slower and lets the heater blast, even though he’s sweating profusely. Frank hums along to a song that’s fading in and out on the radio, absentmindedly nodding and staring out the window. Gerard imagines maybe a little too easily Frank doing just that, with the music a little clearer, down some stretch of highway in the summertime, running away from everything and finding somewhere for both of them to settle down that has adequate central heat and air. He stops himself, because it’s literally the first date and road trip fantasies should not be thought on until at least date number six.

 

An hour later, they’re casually draped over the couch, watching some shitty Transformers ripoff that’s so bad it’s funny. Frank shovels down some more of the onion dip Gerard’s mom dropped off a few days ago, and Gerard doesn’t blame him because it’s a delicious, creamy mess. Frank seems very comfortable with him, which is cute and a little funny since they’ve mostly just been texting. The movie credits, all badly misspelled, begin to roll, and Frank turns down the volume a bit before looking over at Gerard. 

“Hey, Gee? Can I ask you something?” he asks.

“Yeah, of course,” Gerard responds, anxiety building over what there is to ask him that Frank doesn’t already know.

“Why did it take you four damn months to ask me out? I was starting to lose hope around week seven, but I stuck it through and it’s currently paying off, but why?”  _ Fuck _ , thinks Gerard,  _ why _ did _ it take me that long _ ? 

“Um, I guess I’m just not that good at talking to people I’m really into? Like, I wanted to ask you out and everything, but I…” Gerard pauses, debating whether or not to be 100% honest with Frank. He decides yes. “I was afraid. I kind of have this really irrational fear that every time I consider anyone anything more than a casual acquaintance, they won’t like me anymore or they’ll think I’m a desperate loser. I kind of am a desperate loser.”

“Desperate loser is totally my type,” Frank laughs. “Also, never be afraid of me. I’m the size of an elf, I couldn’t beat up a baby. Not a threat.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, Frankie Claus. You’re small. It’s not about that though. It’s just this shitty fear of rejection. I’ve been like that for a while, but I’m glad I finally asked you out. This is fun,” Gerard smiles, hoping really fucking hard that the low light hides the fact he is currently approximately the color of a vine-ripened tomato.

“Yeah, it is, but my last name is actually Claus-Iero. Hyphenated. I couldn’t just take that fat old creep’s surname.” Frank recovers a Tupperware lid for the bowl of onion dip and gets up to return it to the fridge. “Be right back!”

_ Iero, huh? Not a bad last name _ , Gerard thinks.  _ Not bad at all _ . He hears the fridge close before Frank appears in the doorway, stretching his arms above his head.

“Hey, look, thanks for tonight, and this is gonna sound so lame, but I’m kinda really tired. Do you mind if I crash here?” he asks. 

“No, no problem! Uh, I only have one bed, but you can have it. I’ll sleep on the couch,” Gerard stammers, feeling way too much like some blushy teenage anime girl.

“I’d rather you sleep in your own bed. If you wouldn’t mind some extra heat, maybe we can both sleep in there?” Frank suggests, and fuck, is he trying to smash or sleep?

“Um, no, no, I wouldn’t mind,” Gerard manages to say without actually dying. Frank turns off the TV and grabs Gerard’s hand like he’ll lead Gee to the bedroom before realizing that this is not his house and he has no idea which room is the bedroom. Gerard leads him into his dweeb cave, and is once again thankful for the darkness cloaking his D&D paraphernalia and comic book collection. Frank crawls in, and Gerard follows. Frank flips over, pushes his back into Gerard’s chest, and grabs the larger man’s arm, draping it over him.

“Night, Gerard,” he mumbles, snuggling in, and  _ fuck, this would be a not-great time to get a boner, Gerard. _

“Night, Frank,” he replies, a little confused but not unhappy. Frank turns his head, trying to crane it directly behind him. Gerard moves his face closer, expecting… what? A whisper? Stupid, he thinks, before Frank manages to somehow close the gap and give him a very gentle kiss. It’s weird, but not necessarily bad, the experience of kissing a really cute dude and tasting his mom’s dip.

Overall, Gerard thinks, this date went pretty okay. He drifts off into a dream, the only part of which he’ll remember is a whisper from the passenger seat, saying, “ _ You can run away with me any time you want _ .”


End file.
